Too Good for Its Own Good
by TitansFan22
Summary: One year after The Brain is beaten, the world takes a turn for the worst. It's up to an unexpected team to make things as good, or as bad as they used to be.


Jump City,

It was already past midnight, the moon projected its dull white light on the gray streets. These streets, which were barely able to contain the enormous amount of festivals and celebrations that followed The Brain's downfall last year were now empty and silent. Lamp posts, positioned randomly along them provided excellent lighting; the sidewalks were spotless, the benches were in perfect order and any tree planted next to the black road was blooming bright green under the yellowish light of the steet lamps.

Everything was just perfect.

In those cark hours, a cold, harsh wind blew from the bay, billowing through the perfct streets of Jump City, not a single sheet of paper, or plastic cup was disturbed by the gust, no, all the was heard was the silent rustle the wind blew through the green leaves of the trees, they made an odd sound as they brushed againts one another; a cold, distant sound.

The way plastic sounds.

A fake sound.

As the wind started to die down, one could pick up a different sound, coming from the distance, from where the old Tech District on the South End was

It started like a low rumble, just going in the distance, turning down and then suddenly rising back again, louder than before.

_He squeezed the clutch lever with two fingers and kicked the gear selector with the tip of his boot_

For anyone who wasn't knew to Jump City, that rumble was all but too familiar, especially for those who live next to the Tech District. Normally, the noise that was heard right now would be followed by flashing red and blue light and the endless howl of sirens, tearing through the night.

_With a slight twist of his right wrist, he could feel raw power coursing through him. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the road ahead._

As the noise was getting clearer and clearer, one could make out the rumble now sounded more like a shreik, getting louder and louder by the second. In the southern side of Elm Street, one could spot the faint trace of a headlight

_In the corner of his eye, he could see the crimson needle of his RPM gauge rising._

It was exacly 00:41 when the Jump City traffic cameras at the end of Elm Street got a lock on the black motorcycle sliding across the black tarmac into Main Street, heading west. A faint flash alerted him, just like he timed it; they'll be on him when it's already too late from stopping him on the road. He missed the feeling, he missed the chase, the hunt, the endless race against them, whoever 'they' were, if they were the JCPD Commando Team with their white uniform and pulse assault rifles or a team of circus rejects led by a christmas elf, it didn't matter. He was always faster, he was always better, always smarter.

He knew it was only a matter of time before they'll be all over him, that's the way things go when the entire city is networked with securirty cameras and motion sensors. He gunned the throttle and his motorycle responded, sending whatever ounce of raw power directly to the rear wheel and into his spine as he was almost torn from his seat while the machine kept going faster and faster.

As he was closing in on the west city of the city, he took the motorcycle through a sharp turn and headed towards the bay. He swore in his mind; he wasn't as fast as he wanted to be, but he improvised, he always imrpovised, he'll ditch the Termo Drones in the fog of the bay and then head back to course, and when he gets to the end? Improvise again.

He was heading directly against the strong cold wind, it was freezing, piercing whatever protection his outfit granted him and heading directly towards the bones. The sound generated by his motorcycle's exauhst was echoing between buildings, yet not a single light was lit, not a single camera peered through one of the windows with hopes of selling the video to the 6 O'clock News, not even a surprised face, peering out to understand what was all the noise about.

It was kind of depressing to be the best out there, while being the only one out there.

He stopped for a second, killing the engine on the bike and stepping off, he knew the Thermo Drones would take at least three minutes to re-sync according to the new environmnent, and when he will start up the machine again, they'll be caught off guard.

Stepping off the motorcycle, he mused for a moment, sitting on the road beside the black machine and peering into the fog. In the distance, he could see the large, bright yellow T shining in the distance.

He sighed.

One year ago, the biggest trouble of his life used to live in that tower. a crazed, obssessive teenager who would stop at nothing to stop him; the most daring of moves didn't matter because he would charge right ahead, regardless of danger. He lived for Justice.

"I do kinda miss ya" He let out.

It took him a few moments before he got up and mounted his motorcycle again and fired up the large engine. The bike responded with a low growl and as he twisted the throttle, the machine screeched as it headed towards the inside of Jump City once again.

Back inside, street lights were randomly flashing with red light as he rode between them, it didn't matter to him, of course the motion trackers are working, but the Drones will take forever to catch him again, long enough to get to his target. As he went deeper into the city, he suddenly stopped and stared at one of the large plasma screened the now covered an entire side of a building

'WANTED' was writting in huge black capital letters

'Grand theft, Breaking and Entering, Assault and Battery, posession of stolen GPKO property, etc.'

The white screen flashed a picture of a figure draped in blacks; a jet black skin tight suit with matching combat boots, gray gloves and a black and gray cape that was torn at the bottom. The next flash was a close-up headshot; the figure's black suit covered its head and neck as well, but the face was hidden by a bleached white skill shaped mask,white, permanently glaring eye slits that were difined by thick black lines and a long red cross cutting from the middle of the mask's forehead, through the right eye slit and down to the edge of the mask.

He grinned and shifted his motorcycle into first gear.

"Always loved seeing my name in lights"

Gunning the throttle, he took off to the distance, leaving the large screen to present whoever was there on the empty street to view it with four menacing letters in a bold black form:

RED-X


End file.
